Recovery
by Sandtigress
Summary: Sometimes it takes a near-death experience to make you reconsider your positions in life.  Bridge piece for Kaidan romance in ME3, thus mild in-game spoilers.


_A/N Again, mild spoilers for ME3. You have been warned! Thanks to BlametheTemplar for the beta read. Email at the end and Kaidan belong to BioWare (duh), not to me!_

"Kaidan?"

He turned his head at the sound of his name, his second visitor of the day unless it was Udina again, come to demand more of an answer to becoming a Spectre than "maybe". He winced when it set his head aching and the world spinning again - he would never quite get used to that. Kaidan never wanted to be used to this, being bedridden while war raged in the galaxy, on earth, without him. But then, he supposed he was just lucky to be alive at all at this point.

"Hey, I'd heard you'd gotten hurt. How are you?" It wasn't Udina. He didn't have to think too hard to place her, even though they'd only gone out for drinks once here on the Citadel. They'd kept in touch every so often since then while he'd been out on assignments, when he could. She'd seemed pretty interested in pursuing something. He might have been too. Dr. Heather Kenyon was a nice enough lady, pleasant, pretty smile. It could have gone somewhere. But then Shepard had shown up again, like a ghost from the past. Damn her, but she always found a way to make his life more difficult.

He'd finally started moving on, _finally_ after losing her, then she'd had the gall to come back out of cover, working for _Cerberus_ of all people. It was too hard to believe. Or she had really been gone this whole time, and Cerberus had brought her back to fight the Collectors. That had been impossible to believe. Except that not long after their row on Horizon the colony abductions had stopped and even the admirals believed that Shepard had really gone through and ended the Collector threat. They believed her, somehow. Even when he couldn't.

"Kaidan?" The woman at his doorway frowned in worry and crossed over to his bedside, studying him the way that doctors did while taking up his chart, reading the scrolling lines with a practiced eye.

"Sorry, doctor," he apologized. "I'm fine. Just have a lot on my mind, I guess."

"Heather," she corrected gently with a smile. "Your charts are looking pretty good now. It was a close call though. You were lucky." He'd heard them say that earlier. "Lucky" probably didn't begin to describe it. By all accounts, he should have been dead. "I talked to Dr. Michel about letting me in on your case. Now that your condition's stabilized, she's willing to, as long as you're okay with it."

"Sure, why not?" he replied. "The more doctors I have, the faster I get out of here, right? It does work that way, doesn't it?"

She smiled in response. "If only. But at least the company will be good, right?" she finished with a wink.

"So how have you been, doctor? Heather," Kaidan amended at her mock frown as she pulled up a chair next to his bed. "How are things at the Citadel?"

"Busy," she answered with a sigh. "Lots of refugees coming in from all over. You wouldn't think there was a war out there just looking at the Citadel, until you look at the hospital or some of the docking bays. But really, how are you? I know what your chart says, but how are you feeling? What happened?"

"A run in with Cerberus on Mars." He grimaced at the memory. Whatever that thing was, it had pretty much taken him out before he could get a shot fired off. "Not sure what happened after that."

"Your team brought you here," Kenyon supplied. "They seemed pretty worried about you. Especially that woman, Shepard? We had pretty explicit standing orders to let her know if anything changed in your condition."

That surprised him. "Shepard, really?" He hadn't treated her well on Mars. Kaidan hadn't missed the hurt and frustration in her voice when he had accused her of being Cerberus. Again. "Have you told her I'm up yet?" Shepard certainly hadn't come by that he knew of so far if they had.

Dr. Kenyon shook her head. "No, she left a few days after you arrived. Council business, I gathered. We hadn't had the chance with how busy everything is here." She gave him a measuring look. "She came by at least once a day while she was here to check on you though. I saw the logs. Who is she?"

There was a weight to the question that didn't escape him. "Shepard…" He considered the words carefully. "She was my commanding officer, back on the original Normandy. We fought against Saren and the geth together."

"_The_ Commander Shepard?" Kenyon's eyes grew large. "But…I thought she died."

Kaidan sighed. "So did I." Things were less complicated when that had been the case. Painful, but less complicated. "I guess we were wrong."

Kenyon watched him for a bit, just a hint of a frown on her face. "You two were close before." It was a statement, not a question.

"We were." Kaidan didn't see the point in lying about it. "I hadn't felt that way about someone in a long time."

"And now?" Somehow she managed to ask the question in a way that made it clear that she was holding her breath, waiting for the answer.

"Now?" he repeated, looking away from her. "Now…I don't know."

He was torn. There was what his eyes told him – Shepard in a Cerberus ship working with Cerberus people. The disappearance of human colonies and how she just _happened_ to be there, right when an abduction was taking place. The deaths of all those batarians on Aratoht. Her "death" and reappearance after all this time, without so much as a word to him.

Then there was what his gut was telling him. That she denied working for Cerberus, that she only did it because no one else would listen to her about the Collector threat, just like they hadn't with Saren before. The guilt that flashed in her eyes when anyone even mentioned the Bahak system, that he wasn't sure anyone else could see. The conviction he heard in her voice whenever she spoke of the Collector threat. The fact that she had turned herself over to Alliance discipline without a fight. The way she talked about still caring about him. How on Horizon, on Mars, she had tried to get close, tried to explain, tried to reason with him. The hurt in her voice when he had refused to listen.

He didn't know what to believe anymore.

Kenyon sighed. "Look, Kaidan, I like you a lot," she said. "And I think you like me too. I'd really like this to go somewhere."

"Right now?" he asked. "In the middle of a war?"

"I'm surrounded by people who are dying, who have no hope," she countered. "Maybe I want a little bright spot at the end of the tunnel. Is that so hard to believe?"

It made sense. "No, I guess it's not."

"But you and me…it can't work if you still have feelings for her." Kenyon looked at him expectantly. "Do you?"

Did he? He spent two years mourning her, trying to pick up the shattered pieces of his life when he lost her. And now, seeing her again…she still had the same effect on him. He wouldn't be so uncertain if she didn't. Despite _everything_, if she was who she used to be, he loved her. He still loved her, after all this time.

They'd been given a second chance. He'd been given a second chance. A chance to recover what they had lost, what a blast from a Collector ship had stolen from them. And maybe he owed it to what they used to have to see that chance through, wherever it went.

Kenyon must have seen it in his eyes, in his expression, in the time it took him to answer, something. "Alright," she sighed. "If it doesn't work out…let me know, okay?" He nodded, not sure what he could say. "I'll…I'll take myself off your case. You're in good hands with Dr. Michel anyways," she continued. "But…Kaidan, promise me something?"

"Sure," he replied. He hated to see her upset about this – she really was a nice woman. It could have worked. It might still. But he had to see this through, to at least know if Shepard wanted what he did.

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself?" Kenyon asked. "More than you have?"

"I will, Heather," he answered. "Thanks."

She nodded in answer before leaving the room. He waited for awhile, but she didn't return. Then he reached for his omnitool, and sent Shepard a message. Udina's offer was as good an excuse as any.

_Hey Shepard,_

_Through some combination of a medical miracle and dumb luck, I survived the beating I took on Mars. The doctors say I'm still not ready to be released, but I'd really like to see you if you can spare the time._

_Councilor Udina offered to make me a Spectre. Still thinking about whether or not I should accept. Stop by my room at the hospital when you're on the Citadel. I'd like your advice._

_Thanks,_

_Kaidan_

He wanted a lot more than her advice, but for now, it would do.


End file.
